


Continuing the Way

by fiona_cat2004



Series: Finding His Way [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Academia, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Not Canon Compliant, Parent-Child Relationship, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiona_cat2004/pseuds/fiona_cat2004
Summary: Mariana and Din Djarin have left Thantos Prime behind. Mariana is busy working and studying at the university on Chandrilla, while Din is happy taking care of their sons. But someone from Din’s past brings an opportunity that Din may not be able to turn down, and Mariana faces a challenge that could impact her career.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Finding His Way [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676830
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

Din made sure his sons were safely occupied with their building set before he started prepping dinner. It was always dangerous to leave two toddlers unsupervised for even a short length of time, but he’d learned that if he gave them the building set he could have a good fifteen minutes before they started squabbling. Ad’ika knew better, but he got frustrated with Cabur’s selfishness, and since he was only marginally more socially developed than his brother, it never ended well. Right now, Din quickly assembled a pan of meat and vegetables, popping it into the oven to roast just as he heard Cabur’s shrill, “Mine!!!” Din sighed. _They don’t call it the Terrible Twos for nothing_ , he mused as he wiped his hands and headed into the living room to referee the argument.

Ad’ika was floating a carved wooden tauntaun over his head, using his Force-sensitive powers to tease his brother. The tauntaun, which for some reason was painted a hideous bright pink color, was a prized possession of both boys. “Daddy!” Cabur complained. “Mine! ‘Dika mean!”

Din plucked the tauntaun from the air and squatted down between the two children. Cabur was glaring at his older brother, who flattened his green fuzzy ears when he realized that Daddy was not amused by his trick.

“Ad’ika, I’ve told you, it’s not fair to use your powers,” Din said carefully. 

“Cabur bigger,” Ad’ika said. It was true that the younger brother was now quite a bit taller and stronger than the elder, but since they were two different species, that was only to be expected.

“I know,” Din said, stroking Ad’ika’s head, “but he’s much younger than you. You need to be the big brother. Show him how to share and be nice.” He ruffled Cabur’s dark hair. “And you … you need to work on sharing, and taking turns. You know this.”

Both boys mumbled, “Sorry, Daddy,” or something close to it, and Din laid the tauntaun down on the floor before pulling both children into his lap. As frustrating as the boys could be, he loved them dearly and always tried to be gentle when reprimanding them. 

They were still cuddling together when Mariana arrived home, her hair falling out of its braid as usual at the end of a long, hectic day. She dropped her satchel on the table inside the apartment door just as the boys launched themselves out of Din’s lap.

“Mama!,” they cried.

She crouched down and pulled them into a hug. “My boys,” she said, planting a kiss on each of their foreheads. “I missed you all day. Did you miss me?”

They nodded and kissed her cheeks. “And were you good boys for Daddy?” They gave each other a sideways look that spoke volumes.

“They were as good as can be expected,” Din said. “It’s hard to be two, isn’t it, Cabur? And hard to be 53, huh, Ad’ika?”

Mariana laughed, stood up and gave Din a nice, sloppy kiss that promised much more after the boys were asleep. “Mmm,” he said. “Can you watch them while I check on dinner?” He tapped the toy tauntaun with his shoe. “And maybe give Pinky a time out until they’ve forgotten about him?” 

“You’ve got it,” she said, deftly bending down and slipping the offending toy into her pocket. She then turned to the boys and said, “Who can build me the tallest tower?”

They scrambled to impress their mother, and Din stepped into the kitchen. The food was roasting nicely and by the time he had sliced some bread, and cut up some fruit for dessert, it would be ready to eat. He pulled clean plates out of the cupboard, humming quietly to himself as he set the table for his family. He knew Cara and Greef would razz him mercilessly about his new domestic role as stay at home father, but after so many years of living amongst the worst the galaxy had to offer, he found he was quite content to putter around the apartment, taking care of his sons and his wife.

He heard their chatter and laughter, punctuated by the occasional clatter of falling building blocks, while he finished preparing dinner. He knew Mariana was tired after her day, and playing with the boys always helped energize her a bit, so he didn’t mind not having her help. 

Soon enough, dinner was ready and he called them to the table. Cabur and Ad’ika raced to see who could reach him first; the winner got put into his seat by Daddy, while the loser got put into his seat by Mommy, so it didn’t really matter who won, since either way the boys were happy.

Today Cabur won the race, as he did more and more often now that he was taller and steadier on his feet. Still, Ad’ika had his own advantages, sometimes moving faster than seemed physically possible, and Din suspected he often let his younger brother win so that he got to spend a few extra moments with Mommy.

“This looks delicious,” Mariana said, after she’d settled Ad’ika into his seat. Din smiled shyly. He always felt uncomfortable when she complimented his cooking; it was not a skill he’d ever thought he’d be praised for.

“Thanks, _cyar’ika_ ,” he replied, dishing up food for the boys first and then preparing a plate for her. Ad’ika’s plate was heavier on meat, while Cabur’s was heavier on veggies and bread. The younger boy was reluctant to eat his vegetables but could be persuaded most days by the addition of his favorite food — and the promise of dessert. 

Din and Mariana chatted quietly while they ate, pausing now and then to keep the boys on task. When it was clear that the children were finished, Din removed their plates and brought them bowls of fruit. Cabur was clearly disappointed that dessert wasn’t a cake or pastry tonight, but Ad’ika dug in readily. By the time Cabur was finished with his fruit, Mariana was ready for her own dessert, and Din brought it to her before wiping the boys’ mouths and helping them down so they could go back to playing.

He watched them race their toy spaceships around the room while Mariana finished her dessert and cleared the table. “I’ll take over,” she said, sitting next to him on the couch and giving him a fruit-flavored kiss. He retired to the kitchen to nibble on his own dessert while he washed the dishes and tidied up. 

Soon the kitchen was cleaned up and he was on the couch snuggling with Mariana while the boys continued playing. “Busy day?,” he asked her, blocking a flying stuffed bantha that threatened to hit her in the head. Apparently the game had shifted from Space Battle to Flying Animals.

“Of course,” she said. “Three classes, two hours of research for Professor Ti’lik, and a staff meeting.” Din winced. He’d been to his share of staff meetings at the Academy back on Thantos Prime, but apparently university staff meetings were exponentially worse.

“Term’s almost over, right?”

Mariana nodded. “Yes, I’ll have exams in three weeks, so I’m not going to be much help around here for the next month.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Din replied. “I’ll survive. I survived last term and the one before that.”

“I know,” she said, “I just feel guilty for taking advantage of you.”

“You can always take advantage of me, _cyar’ika_ ,” he whispered in her ear, which made her giggle and slide her hand under the hem of his shirt to trace patterns on his stomach. This led to a kiss and then another, until a loud “Ewww!,” from Cabur brought them up short.

Ad’ika was unperturbed by their actions, but Cabur had started reacting to their amorous moments with his new favorite word, which he’d learned at the park when some of the children in their playgroup saw Ad’ika eat a frog. 

“Okay, _ad_ ,” Din said. “We’ll stop embarrassing you.”

Cabur shook his head. “Yucky!,” he said. He’d just recently decided that while hugs were fine, kisses were gross and to be avoided at all costs, except for goodnight kisses from Mommy, which were grudgingly tolerated.

Mariana sat up and pushed away from Din. “I should get some studying done anyway,” she said. She crossed the room and fetched her data pad from her satchel. Din slid onto the floor to play with the boys; it would keep them from bothering her and let her focus on her work.

After an hour of building hangars and racing Banthas and playing catch, it was bath time. Mariana put down her pad and stretched. “Who wants a bath?,” she sang out.

Ad’ika immediately dropped his toy and raced across the room. He had discovered the joys of bath time on Thantos Prime and it was one of his favorite parts of the day. Cabur put up a bit of a fuss, but allowed himself to be herded into the ‘fresher. Mariana ran the bath water into the tub while Din undressed the boys and soon they were splashing in the water, pouring cups of water over each other’s heads and floating little plastisteel boats on the waves. Din and Mariana each took charge of a child and soaped and scrubbed as best they could in between naval attacks. When both boys were clean, they scooped them out, rubbed them dry with fuzzy towels and wrangled them into their pajamas.

“Mama story!,” Cabur demanded. 

Ad’ika agreed, tugging at Mariana’s hand.“ _Buir, gehat'ik gedet'ye.” Mother, story please_.

Din helped her tuck them into their beds, then retired to the living room while she told them one of the stories from her childhood. Din didn’t remember any stories except those the Mandalorians had told him, and the boys preferred Mariana’s stories, which were more varied and had happier endings. Far too many Mando’a stories ended in glorious sacrifice and death on the battlefield.

By the time he’d picked up all the scattered toys and swept up the crumbs that inevitably ended up on the floor (Ad’ika was extremely skilled at sneaking snacks out of the cupboards despite Din’s best efforts to keep them safe from little claws), Mariana had returned. “They’re both asleep,” she said, picking up her data pad. He joined her on the couch, leaning back against the cushions. This was his favorite part of the day, when the boys were asleep and he could completely relax. 

Mariana returned to her studying, head resting on his shoulder as she read. Din stroked her hair, content to simply be near her as she worked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariana gets some good news at work and the boys eat cake.

Mariana rushed into Professor Ti’lik’s office. “Sorry, I’m late,” she said as she stashed her bag under the table in the corner that served as her desk. “We had a small meltdown this morning when Cabur decided he doesn’t like his gray pants anymore, and of course, they’re the only ones that are clean right now.”

Ti’lik chuckled. Her own offspring were fully grown but she sympathized. Her species went through its own version of the Terrible Twos, known as “the Years of Anger,” in which young ones wrestled with the emergence of negative emotions by screaming and slamming doors and head butting the walls. Mariana was certainly glad human children didn’t go quite _that_ far.

“Not to worry,” Ti’lik said. “We do have a meeting with the Galactic History Consortium this afternoon, but otherwise you have the whole day for research.”

It was the one day of the week that Mariana did not have any classes, and it was her favorite day. She could get lost in her research and get home early enough that she could take the boys to the park or to do some shopping, giving Din a bit of a break from childcare.

“What time is the meeting?” Mariana asked, pulling out her data pad to set herself an alarm. When she got involved in her work, she tended to lose track of time.

“1400 hours,” Ti’lik replied. “I’ll remind you after lunch … unless I have to remind you to _eat_ lunch.” Mariana shook her head. The professor would not let her live down the day she’d worked straight through until 1700 hours and promptly fainted the moment she’d stood up to go home.

“I have a reminder,” Mariana said, entering the meeting into her daily calendar. “Lunch: 1200 hours. Meeting: 1400 hours. There.” She placed the data pad against the back of her table and pulled out the heavy-duty portable terminal she used to access the university servers. It had a larger screen and a keyboard for inputting data, making it easier to use than her smaller data pad. She logged into the university system and immediately lost herself in the minutiae of Rigellian military customs in the fourth century of the Linomatian Regime on the Outer Rim.

***********************  
Ten minutes before she and Professor Ti’lik left for the meeting with the Galactic History Consortium, a comm pinged on Mariana’s data pad. Another reminder from the med clinic that she was overdue for her checkup. She’d already missed three appointments because she was just so busy, but she knew she needed to schedule a time to replace her contraceptive implant before it expired in a few months. She flagged the message so she would see it the next time she accessed her pad, and promptly forgot about it as she and Ti’lik hurried to the meeting.

The Consortium was a group of historians from several different universities across the Republic and being invited to meet with them, even just the local representatives, was quite an honor. Mariana was mostly there as Ti’lik’s research assistant, but she was still excited.

Ti’lik was less impressed. “These things tend to drag on,” she warned Mariana. “Some of the older professors like to hear themselves talk. Just smile and nod and act like you’re taking notes. If there’s anything of real importance, I’ll let you know so you can pay proper attention.” 

The meeting did drag, as Professor Dawwinta from the University of Coruscant, the visiting speaker, gave a very involved and rambling report on his research into the history of the ancestral tribes of the southern continent of Naboo. Near the end of the two hours allotted to the meeting, Professor Ti’lik tapped Mariana’s foot, alerting her to the real business at hand.

Professor Kevit Dane, who was most likely to take over as department chair when Ti’lik retired, was the local member of the Consortium. He stood to deliver his own report. “The Consortium has asked our university to coordinate a bibliographic study of the literature of the matriarchal societies of the Old Republic,” he began. “I would like to propose that we form a task force to work on this project, and I’d further like to propose that Professor Ti’lik’s assistant Mariana Djarin take point on this endeavor.”   
Mariana was taken aback. “We have a very good cohort of students in the department who can do the bulk of the work, but I think Mariana would be a good fit as project coordinator.”

The others nodded and Dane gestured at Mariana. “Are you amenable to that, Mrs. Djarin?,” he asked.

“Of course,” Mariana stammered. “I’d be more than happy to help, if Professor Ti’lik can spare me.”

Ti’lik nodded. “I think that can be arranged. We’re ahead of schedule on the research, thanks to your diligent work.”

Mariana felt herself blush a little. “I’m just doing my job,” she said.

“And doing it well,” Dane said. “Which is why I’m offering this project to you and not one of our adjunct professors.” He chuckled. “Quite frankly, our current adjuncts are overworked and under qualified.” The others nodded; it seemed to be a common complaint amongst tenured staff no matter which university they worked for.

The meeting wound down after that and fifteen minutes later, Mariana and Ti’lik were heading back to the office.

“That was a surprise,” Mariana said.

“Not really,” Ti’lik salad. “You’re the logical choice for the job. Technically, it should have gone to an adjunct, but as Dane said, they’re overwhelmed and frankly, you’ll do a better job. You have to know, Dane and I have already discussed hiring you as an adjunct the moment the ink is dry on your degree.” She unlocked the office door and motioned for Mariana to enter first.

“That’s very kind,” Mariana said, “but let’s wait to see if I manage to get that degree first.” She started packing up her things. “Between work, and classes, and the kids, I’m hanging in there, but it’s rough.”

“You’ll do fine,” Ti’lik said. “Like I said, we’re ahead of schedule on my project, so you can concentrate on the bibliography for the Consortium. It’ll look great on your resume.” She winked. “Now, go home and play with your babies … you’ve earned it.”

************************************  
“Mama got a new project today,” Mariana said once she’d gotten in the door and dropped her bag on the table. “So let’s go buy a treat for after dinner!” Cabur and Ad’ika started jumping up and down.

“A new project?” Din asked. “That sounds exciting.”

“It is,” she said, digging through her bag for her credit pouch. “I’ll tell you the details later.” She kissed him quickly on the cheek. “I’ll take the boys to the park and then we’ll stop at the bakery for something yummy. I’ll get some of those meat and veggie pies the boys like for dinner, so you won’t have to cook. Just relax.” Just like that, she and the kids were out the door and Din found himself alone in the apartment.

The quiet was soothing at first, but after about fifteen minutes, Din missed the background noise that always accompanied his sons as they played. Even when they were napping, he was always aware of their presence, his ears tuned to listen for the small sounds they made as they woke up. He had been tempted several times to tell Mariana to take these afternoons for herself, to go out and enjoy herself, but he knew she felt guilty about not helping with the boys, and she liked her mommy time with them every week.

Din lay down on the couch, closed his eyes and dozed off for a while. He woke with a start when the door opened, the boys spilling in and filling the apartment with their comforting noise. “Da!,” Adi’ka shouted. “Cakes!”

“My cakes,” Cabur yelled. “Mine, mine, mine!”

Din sat up. “So, did you get cakes?”

Mariana laughed, juggling three carrier bags in her hands. “Yes, Cabur talked me into getting a dozen of those cakes he loves,” she said. “And I got some of those fruit hand pies you like.” 

Din helped her take the bags into the kitchen and unpack them. The boys hopped excitedly around their feet, clamoring for cakes. “Dinner first,” Mariana reminded them. “Remember what we talked about?”

Ad’ika nodded, but Cabur whined. He was still having difficulty with the concept of patience. Din pulled out some plates and plopped a savory pie on each one. “Here, kiddos,” he said. “Eat your dinner and then we’ll dig into the cakes.” He helped Ad’ika into his chair, while Cabur climbed into his own and reached eagerly for his plate. Before Din could even think of getting forks out, both boys had their mouths full.

He handed Mariana a fork but she was already biting into her pie, holding it with both hands like the boys did. “No manners,” Din chided, tossing a napkin at her. She made a face around a mouthful of pie. Din made a show of eating his own pie properly, with a fork, but his family didn’t care. As soon as Cabur had swallowed the last bite of his pie, he started a chant, “Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!”

Ad’ika joined in, and Mariana tried to shush them. “Wait until Daddy’s finished,” she said.

“Daddy slow!” Cabur complained. 

“ _Buir n’iviin'yc_ ,” Ad’ika agreed. Father not fast.

“Oh, fine,” Din said, shoving the rest of his pie into his mouth, which made the boys laugh. As he struggled to chew and swallow the wad of food, he brought the box of cakes down from the shelf.

Cabur stood on his chair, half laying on the table in his eagerness to reach the sweets. “Calm down, _ad_ ,” Mariana said. “You’ll get your fair share.” Din placed two of the small cakes on each plate, raising an eyebrow at Cabur, who was ready to snatch his before they touched the plate.

“Okay, go ahead,” Din said once they had all been served. Cabur shoved one of the chocolatey cakes into his mouth, nearly choking himself. “Slow down there, son,” Din said. “Enjoy it, don’t inhale it.” Cabur wrinkled his nose and kept cramming the cake into his face. They were his favorite dessert and they only bought them on special occasions.

Ad’ika was slightly more sedate, but still gobbled his cakes quickly. Mariana ate one, then divided the second one in two, sneaking one half onto each boy’s plate. Din pretended not to see her, and the boys giggled, thinking they’d pulled one over on Daddy. Din made sure they watched him eat both of his cakes.

“ _Buir me'dinuir_?” Ad’ika asked. _Father share_? Din shook his head.

“ _Nayc_ ,” he replied. _No_.

Both boys narrowed their eyes at him, looking as fierce as they could. Din glowered back until he finally broke and pulled two more cakes out of the box and handed them to the boys.

“ _Elek_!,” both boys shouted. _Yes_!

Mariana shook her head. “And you say I spoil them,” she said. Din just shrugged and popped another cake into his own mouth. Mariana peeked into the box. “There’s only one left! I bought a dozen … you boys are too greedy.” She snatched the last cake and delicately nibbled on it, making it last long after their own cakes were gone. “See, if you take your time, you get to enjoy your cake longer.”

“But you only got two and we each got three,” Din pointed out.

“And a half,” Mariana said, pointing at the boys, who both had chocolate smeared around their mouths.

“Three and a half,” Din admitted. “Well, come on greedy boys, let’s go wash our faces while Mommy clears away the dishes.”

Once the boys were cleaned up, the sugar kicked in and they filled the living room with their squeals and giggles as they attempted to play with every one of their toys at once. Finally, they crashed and nearly fell asleep in the bath. Mariana didn’t even need to tell them a story after they were tucked in; both boys drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

“So,” Din said, when he and Mariana adjourned to the couch, “tell me about this new project of yours.”

Mariana rattled on about the bibliography and how she was going to be in charge of a research team of her own, clearly excited about the prospect. “And Ti’lik said we’re ahead of schedule on her project, so I can take some time off from that to concentrate on getting the bibliography project up and running,” she concluded. “Best of all, she said that once I have my degree, they want to hire me as an adjunct!” She snuggled closer. “I think this project is a trial run just to make sure I’d be a good fit.”

“Of course you’ll be a good fit,” Din said, squeezing her tightly. “You’ve been doing an amazing job, from what Ti’lik has told me when I’ve spoken to her.”

“When are you talking to Professor Ti’lik?” Mariana asked, sitting up to look at him curiously.

“She calls now and then to check on how the boys and I are doing,” he explained. “And sometimes she wants to make sure I get you to relax or eat or whatever. She worries about you, _cyar’ika_.”

Mariana snorted. “I’m fine,” she said. “She fusses too much.”

Din shook his head. “You fainted that one time,” he scolded. “You work too hard, and for too long.”

“I’m making up for lost time,” Mariana said. “Once I get my degree finished, things will slow down.” She nuzzled against his neck. “And we can start thinking about giving the boys a little brother or sister.”

Din hummed a noncommittal reply as she kissed and nibbled at his throat. “I know you want another one,” she said. “So do I, and I’m not getting any younger.”

Din couldn’t argue with that, and he didn’t want to. “We’d better practice, then,” he said, before escorting her to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a words:
> 
> Buir = father, mother  
> n’iviin'yc = combination of the negative prefix n’ with iviin’yc (fast)  
> Ad = son, daughter  
> me'dinuir = share, give to each other  
> Nayc = no (negative answer)  
> Elek = yes  
> Cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din gets a visitor from his past.

The doorbell rang and Din instinctively glanced toward the drawer where he kept his blaster hidden. He took a moment to unlock it and slip the blaster into the waistband of his pants before he went to the door. With two curious boys in the house, he never carried a weapon on his person anymore, but there were several stashed around the apartment, just in case.

Right now, the boys were playing tauntaun races under the kitchen table, so Din felt comfortable opening the door. He immediately regretted it.

“Jado Isard,” he said as soon as he recognized the man standing in the hallway.

A broad smile crept over the man’s face. There were a few more scars than Din remembered, but it was definitely the mercenary turned Rebel soldier turned arms merchant that he’d crossed paths with several years ago. “Kandria was right,” Isard said. “It is you.”

“What do you want?” Din asked curtly.

Isard held up his hands. “Can I come in? You can search me, I’m not carrying anything.”

Din carefully patted down the other man before stepping aside to let him enter the apartment. He was reluctant to let Isard into his home, but better to have the man behind a closed door than standing in the public hallway. “Sit down,” Din said, indicating the chair closest to the door. 

Isard laughed. His reddish blond hair was cropped close but his beard was as unruly as ever. “Nice place,” he said, settling carefully onto the chair. He did not fully relax, but neither did Din.

“Daddy?” Cabur called hesitantly.

Din flicked his eyes toward the boys, but kept his focus on Isard. “Yes, _ad_?”

“Need a go potty,” Cabur said, almost apologetically.

Isard laughed. “Go ahead, take care of the kid,” he said. “I promise I won’t do anything. Swear on my mother’s bones.”

Jado Isard was many things, but he would never disgrace his mother’s memory. Din sighed and gestured to Cabur. “Come on, son,” he said quietly. He nodded at Ad’ika, who was still sitting quietly under the table. The boy nodded back. He would keep an eye on Isard.

Din escorted Cabur into the ‘fresher and helped him use the potty. “Bad man?” Cabur asked quietly when they were done.

“Maybe,” Din admitted. “You and Ad’ika stay out of the way, okay?”

Cabur nodded. “ _Elek, buir_.” _Yes, father_. He didn’t speak Mando’a as well or as often as Ad’ika did, but he knew enough. Din smiled. “ _Jate_ ,” he replied. _Good_.

They returned to the living room, where Isard was still sitting awkwardly on the chair and Ad’ika was lurking behind the table leg, his huge eyes fixed on the stranger. Cabur scurried back to his brother, and Isard watched him go, his face showing his surprise as he noticed Ad’ika.

“What the hell is that?,” he asked, as Din settled back onto the couch. 

“ _That_ is my son,” Din said evenly.

“No, the other one,” Isard said. “The green one.” He leaned forward to get a better look, and Ad’ika shrank back behind his brother.

“They are both my sons,” Din said.

Isard raised an eyebrow. “How many wives do you have? Kandria said she’d heard you’d married but not who … or what.”

“Just one,” Din said. “One of my sons is a foundling. The other is not. Even you’re smart enough to figure out which is which.” 

Isard shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway. The kids aren’t important.” He made a dismissive hand gesture and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I need your help, Mando.”

“I don’t answer to that name anymore,” Din said. “I’m _dar’manda_ now. You can call me Djarin. Or better yet, go away and don’t call me anything. I can’t help you; I’m done with that part of my life.” He stood up, looking pointedly at the door.

“But you’re the only one who can pull this off,” Isard said. He ran a hand over his face. “And you’re the only one left who hasn’t said no,” he admitted. “Come on, for old time’s sake, help a fellow out.”

“No,” Din said firmly. 

“You don’t even know what the job is,” Isard said. “Let me explain …”

“I said no,” Din said. “Now get out of my house.”

Before he could take a step toward Isard, the door opened. Mariana froze in the doorway, her satchel halfway off her shoulder.

“What’s going on?,” she said, her eyes darting between Din, Isard and the boys, who were now easing their way out from under the table.

“This must be the wife,” Isard said. He stood up, a smarmy smile on his face and his hand extended. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jado Isard, an old associate of your husband.”

To her credit, Mariana didn’t take Isard’s offered hand. “If that’s the case, why is he telling you to get out?” Her eyes hardened, and Din felt pride swelling inside him. More than pride, if he was perfectly honest; tough Mariana never failed to turn him on.

Isard shrugged. “I made him a job offer. He turned it down. Simple as that.” He smirked. “I’ll be sure to tell Kandria you said hello; she misses you, you know.” With a lewd wink, Isard brushed past Mariana and left the apartment.

“You can tell me what that was about later,” Mariana said, shutting the door firmly behind Isard’s back. “And who Kandria is.” She gave him a pointed look that promised a reckoning later, then dropped her satchel on the table as she always did. “Right now, I want to see my boys!”

Cabur and Ad’ika rushed toward her and she knelt down to wrap them in a hug. “Get down here, Daddy,” she said, looking up at Din, her eyes much softer now. “Family snuggle time is definitely in order.”

Din dropped to the floor and embraced his family. He doubted that this was the last he’d see of Jado Isard, but for now, the threat was gone.

************************************************  
“So,” Mariana said as she slid into bed next to Din. “Who’s Kandria?”

Din had already explained the reason for Isard’s visit, and a little bit of background on the man. A mercenary who’d joined the Rebellion but gone back to the underworld once it was clear he’d make more money there than in any legitimate business under the aegis of the New Republic. Din had bought weapons from him a few times and done a few side jobs for him when Guild jobs were in short supply.

Din traced his finger down her cheek. “Do we have to do this now?,” he asked. 

Mariana tangled her fingers into his hair. He needed a trim and she made a mental note to book him an appointment with the barber. “Yes,” she said, “we do. So tell me who Kandria is or I’m rolling over and going to sleep.” She tugged at a lock of hair to let him know she was serious.

He sighed and laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Look at me,” Mariana said. Din turned his head slightly, his eyes still not quite locking on hers. “Who is she?”

“A contact,” Din said. Mariana poked him gently but firmly in the chest with her finger. “She was my go-between when Isard wanted to make a deal, or hire me.” He paused. There was clearly more to the story and Mariana stared him down until he went on. “She worked at a brothel on Hokua.”

Mariana leaned closer. “Was she more than just a contact?,” she asked quietly. “Don’t lie to me, Din, I can tell.”

“On occasion we had … business … that didn’t involve Jado Isard,” he admitted.

Mariana kissed his forehead. “But she never got to do this, did she?”

“No.”

“Or this.” She kissed his nose, then his lips. “Or this.”

“No,” Din said, taking her face between his hands. “Only you.”

“Okay, then,” Mariana said, before pulling back and flopping down on the mattress with her back to him. “Good night.”

She didn’t have to wait long before he was whispering in her ear. “You’re a horrible tease, Mariana Djarin.”

She rolled over, bumping noses with him. “I know,” she said. She kissed him again, winding her arms around his neck. “Don’t worry, I can’t be jealous of someone you knew before you ever met me. And I wasn’t exactly a blushing virgin when we got together, either.”

Din slid his arms down her back, his hands settling on her hips, pulling her close. “You never had a choice,” he murmured. “I did.”

“I had a choice when it mattered,” she replied. “And I chose you.” She kissed him again and there were no more words that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a words:  
> Ad = son, daughter  
> Elek = yes  
> Buir = father, mother  
> Jate = good  
> Dar’manda = a state of not being Mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditionally minded Mando'ade


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariana gets some unexpected news.

Mariana’s desk was a mess. Three piles of books, six stacks of papers, two data pads in addition to her personal one, and her info terminal covered every inch of the table. With exams coming up, she was spending every spare moment studying while simultaneously working on the prep work for the bibliography project, and wrapping up the last bit of research she’d been working on for Professor Ti’lik. She had been getting home so late that the boys were fast asleep by the time she walked through the door, and she felt as though she hadn’t said more than three words to Din in the past week. She was exhausted, but she was so close to the end of term that she kept pushing, promising herself that she’d sleep during the break between terms.

Her data pad pinged at her and she shook her head. _What now_? She uncovered her pad from the detritus and peered blearily at the text. She groaned. It was a reminder that her appointment with the med clinic was in fifteen minutes. _I don’t have time for this now_ , she thought, but she’d postponed it several times already and knew she really needed to get it done. She stared at the mess on her desk for a long moment before closing her terminal down.

“She stands!,” Ti’lik said in mock amazement. “She walks!”

Mariana shook her head. “Ha ha, very funny, Professor.” As she’d gotten to know Ti’lik better, she’d discovered that the professor had a dry sense of humor that she only revealed to those close to her. “I have an appointment at the med clinic. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Ti’lik nodded. “Good,” she said. “You’re overdue for it and you’ve been pushing yourself too much lately. I’ve told you, let my project slide for now, concentrate on your classes, and use the break to get the bibliography project started.” She tilted her horned head, giving Mariana a look she recognized as one she often gave her sons when they were being obstinate.

“I know, I know,” Mariana said. “Between you and my husband, I’ve heard it a thousand times. I just … I want to wrap up the work I’ve been doing on your project so when I do get back to it, I can start fresh on a new topic. And I have a meeting with Professor Dane next week to show him my plans for the bibliography project. I want to have a good grasp on the scope of things before I give him my report.”

“Oh, go on, you’ll be late for your appointment,” Ti’lik said, shaking her head. “You won’t listen to me or your husband; maybe the doctors can knock some sense into your head.”

Mariana rolled her eyes and headed across campus to the med clinic. It was in a small building behind the cafeteria; the joke amongst the students was that this was intentional because of the poor quality of the food. She checked in at the front desk and took a seat in the waiting area, pulling out her data pad to check for any new messages. There was one from the literature student she’d asked to help her on the bibliography project, saying he would be happy to join her team as soon as the next term started. She was halfway through drafting a response to him when a med droid called out her name.

She stashed the pad in her jacket pocket and followed the droid into an exam room. “Please change into the examination gown on the table and the doctor will be with you shortly,” the droid droned in a bored voice. It left the room and Mariana quickly stripped down and put on the flimsy gown that could have been made of either cloth or paper for all she could tell. The room was cold and the exam table was even colder, the protective paper covering doing nothing to insulate her from the metal beneath. 

As she sat on the table, her legs swinging lazily as they dangled over the edge, it dawned on her that this was the first time in weeks that she’d actually done nothing. She thought about retrieving her pad from her jacket on the other side of the room, but decided against it. The doctor would certainly take her vitals and if she sat quietly, her blood pressure and heart rate would be lower.

Minutes passed and she resisted the urge to check the time on her pad. _It hasn’t been that long_ , she told herself, _and you need a break anyway_. Still, it was hard to sit there doing nothing when her to-do list was a parsec long. Finally, the door opened and the doctor came in. She was a tall, dark-skinned human with braids and knots in her hair that must have taken hours to achieve. Mariana self consciously ran a hand over her own sloppy single braid.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Djarin, I’m Doctor Korraay.” She extended her hand, which had neatly trimmed and polished nails. Mariana shook it, hoping her own chipped and bitten nails weren’t completely obvious.

“Good afternoon, doctor,” she replied. “And it’s Mrs.”

Korraay nodded, glancing down at the small data pad in her hand. “So you’re here for a routine checkup. Is there anything bothering you that we should pay closer attention to?”

“No,” Mariana said. “I’ve been feeling fine. A little tired and stressed, but between work and school and my family, that’s to be expected.” She laughed, but knew it sounded strained even as it left her mouth. She just wanted to get this over with and get back to work.

Dr. Korraay nodded again, a small smile on her face. “Undoubtedly. I’ll take some blood samples and put those in the analyzer so it can work on them while I do the physical exam.” She drew a few vials of blood from Mariana’s arm, then patted her gently. She dropped the vials into a sleek white machine against the wall, which began to whir and click.

The exam was thorough but Dr. Korraay was quiet and careful, so nothing felt too invasive. When she was done, she tapped a few notes into her data pad and then looked up. “Anything else we can help you with while you’re here?,” she said.

“Um, I’ll need my contraceptive implant replaced soon,” Mariana said. “It should be due in a month or two, I think.”

Korraay nodded and checked her pad. She frowned. “Actually … it was due for replacement almost five months ago,” she said.

“What? No, that can’t be right,” Mariana said. “I got it put in during the spring before we came here ….” Her stomach dropped. “Oh, kriff, that was on Thantos Prime. It was springtime there, but it was still winter here on Chandrilla … how could I be so stupid?”

“Changing planets messes everyone up,” Dr. Korraay said. “And you said yourself you’ve been busy.”

“Well, can I get it replaced today?” Mariana asked. Her mind was already racing, trying to calculate how many times she and Din had been intimate over the last five months …

Korraay consulted her pad. “I’m afraid not,” she said.

“Okay, then when?” Her schedule was slammed right now but she’d definitely make time to get the implant replaced.

Korraay smiled. “There’s really no point right now,” she said gently. “You’re already pregnant, Mrs. Djarin.”

“No, no, no … I can’t be, not now,” Mariana knew she was babbling but she couldn’t help it. “We were going to wait until I finished my degree before we tried for another baby … I don’t have time … I can’t do this right now.”

Korraay slid her arm around Mariana’s shoulders. “Take a deep breath,” she said quietly. “And another. You’re fine.” When Mariana had stopped gasping and was able to focus, she went on. “I know it’s unexpected, and I know you feel like the timing isn’t right, but the fact is, this is happening.” She consulted her pad again. “You’ve already had one successful, uneventful pregnancy. You’ll be fine.”

She helped Mariana lie down on the exam table. “Just rest there for a moment and I’ll do a couple of quick scans to check on the baby. Find out how far along you are, see how things are progressing.”

As Korraay prepared her equipment, Mariana closed her eyes. She wanted another baby, and so did Din. A year from now, she’d have been overjoyed to get this news. Right now, though, she wanted to cry. It was all too much.

The scanner was cold as Korraay ran it over her lower abdomen and Mariana tried not to flinch. “Looks good,” the doctor said as she gently closed the examination robe. “I’d say you’re about two months along.” She helped Mariana sit up and gave her a quick hug. “You’re going to be just fine. Now, I’ll leave you alone to get dressed and then the med droid will see you out.”

Mariana put her clothes on, her hands shaking as she fastened up the buttons. She hardly heard the droid come in and jumped when it said, “If you’ll follow me ….”

Soon she was outside the clinic, blinking in the late afternoon light. It felt like hours should have gone by, as if it should be a completely different day, but it had been less than an hour since she’d left Professor Ti’lik’s office. She walked slowly back across campus. Originally, she’d planned to get back to work on Ti’lik’s project, finish up some details on the bibliography project plans, and then study for her Galactic Cultures of the Old Republic final. Now her mind was a blank, save for one thought. _We’re having another baby_.

She reached the office and found it empty, for which she was thankful. Ti’lik taught a seminar class that lasted three hours on that afternoon and she usually went straight home afterward. Mariana would have the office to herself for as long as she needed it. She sat and stared at her desk for a good fifteen minutes or more. So much work to do and all she could do was sit and try to process the news. She’d managed to take distance classes while pregnant with Cabur, but only two classes at a time, and she hadn’t been working, just taking care of Ad’ika and the apartment. Now she was a full time student, working on two major research projects and even though Din was taking care of the boys and everything else, she was already stretched to the limit. A new baby was definitely going to force her to make some tough choices.

She knew Din would insist that her studies had priority over everything except the family, but she loved her job and how could she give it up? Besides, if she stopped working, they would lose their employee subsidized housing, healthcare access, and all the other benefits that came with working for the university, especially free tuition. Even if Din could find a job quickly, it would never pay enough to keep them in a decent apartment here on Chandrilla _and_ pay her tuition. There was no way she could quit her job.

That meant she’d have to stop taking classes until after the baby was born, which meant her degree would be that much further in the future. By the time she finished up, Professor Ti’lik would be retired and if Professor Dane didn’t take over as department chair, her chances of an adjunct position dropped exponentially. 

No matter what, she was going to have to give up something, and for the first time in her life she finally had everything she’d ever wanted: a degree within her reach, a job she loved, and a family. And now it was falling apart in front of her eyes. She laid her head on the table and let the tears come. Better to cry herself out now before she broke the news to Din. With her head cleared after a good cry, she might be in a better headspace to discuss it with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jado Isard returns, and Din is tempted ...

Din would have noticed Jado Isard approaching if he hadn’t been carrying both boys and a bag stuffed full of an assortment of toys as they made their way back from the park. Since Mariana had been working so much lately, she hadn’t had time for her weekly excursion with the boys, so Din had taken it upon himself to keep up the tradition. 

Ad’ika alerted him to Isard’s presence. “ _Aru’e, buir_ ,” he said quietly. _Enemy, father_. Din shifted slightly, ready to place both boys on the ground out of harm’s way if need be.

“What did I tell you, Isard?,” he said, filling his voice with steel.

“Now, just hear me out, Djarin,” the man said. His beard was more unkempt than it had been a few weeks ago, and his hair had started to grow out into an unruly mess.   
“Let me give you the details and then if you turn me down, I’ll leave. Promise.”

“Swear on your mother’s bones,” Din said.

Isard rolled his eyes but nodded. “Okay, I swear on my mother’s bones. Just listen to me, please?”

It was not like Isard to beg and that was what decided Din. “You have five minutes,” he said. There was a bench on the walkway a few feet away underneath a shady tree that had a scraggly patch of grass around its base. Din put the boys down and gave them the bag of toys. “Play quietly here for a few minutes while I talk to this man,” he told them. Ad’ika nodded solemnly, while Cabur stared fiercely at Isard. 

“Bad man,” Cabur hissed. Din suppressed a smile. Mariana tried to curb the young boy’s more feral instincts but having been raised as a warrior himself, Din saw them as more desirable attributes than she did.

“Maybe,” Din told his son. “We’ll find out.” He sat on the bench, close to the boys, and signaled to Isard to join him. The other man perched warily on the other end of the bench, watching Din’s hands carefully. _Smart man_ , Din thought. He had a small blaster concealed under his jacket and a throwing knife in his left boot. Although he never wore weapons around the house, because of the possibility of the boys getting hold of them, he could not leave home without something to back up his hand-to-hand fighting skills, especially when he had his sons in tow.

“Five minutes. Go,” Din said.

Isard cleared his throat. “Okay, so times have been a bit tough lately, with the New Republic gaining ground and removing pockets of Imperial sympathizers,” he began. “So I got a little overextended …”

Din interrupted him. “You’re in debt.”

Isard nodded. “Yeah, to Anic Nasirii Grixo.”

Din whistled. He couldn’t help it. Grixo was one of the most notoriously vengeful Hutts, worse even than the legendary Jabba of Tatooine. Grixo lent money easily but on highly dangerous terms for the borrower. If Isard had gone to Grixo for cash, he’d really been hard up. “And you want my help to get you out of it. No. No way in all the Sixteen Hells of Doona.” He stood up.

“Wait, wait, Mand— Djarin,” Isard pleaded. “You haven’t heard all of it.”

Din knew he should gather the boys and walk away but something in Isard’s eyes made him hesitate. The other man took advantage of that and plunged ahead. “I know the location of the wreckage of the _Jotau_. It’s on Dala.”

Din sat back down. The _Jotau_ was legendary. A transport ship from the days of the Old Republic, laden down with a cargo of precious minerals and metals … including what was rumored to be some of the finest beskar ever forged on Mandalore.

“Ah, that caught your attention,” Isard said with a grin. “Yes, the _Jotau_. I spent years and far too much money to get those coordinates, Djarin. Now all I need is someone to help me get in there, get as much out as I can, and pay off Grixo. I’ll split whatever’s left over … and you can have all the beskar. Every last ounce of it.”

Din was tempted. Oh, how he was tempted. If Isard truly had the location of the lost _Jotau_ there was enough beskar on board to outfit a thousand Mandalorian soldiers. He was _dar’manda_ now, but he still owed a debt to the Armorer turned Mand’alor who had done so much for him. She had allowed him to keep a small amount of beskar: his helmet, the pauldron on which his clan signet was displayed … and the wedding rings he and Mariana wore. Beskar was so rare these days, and by all rights every bit of it belonged to the Mandalorians.

He thumbed his ring as he thought. The university provided free child care for employees. The three week break between terms was coming up soon; Mariana had work to do during that time, but not as much as she currently did, and she could do without him at home for a short time. If Isard had a decent ship, Dala was only two days away …

There was a tug on his pant leg and Din looked down into Ad’ika’s face. His son slowly shook his head, his huge eyes shimmering with fear. Din glanced at Cabur, whose expression mirrored that of his brother. They knew he was tempted.

Din smiled and stroked Ad’ika’s fuzzy little head. “It’s tempting, Isard,” he admitted. “But I have to say no. I have all the beskar I need and something far more precious as well.” He ran his thumb over the smooth metal of his ring one last time before picking Ad’ika up and cuddling him in his lap. 

“But …” Isard sputtered, but Din raised a hand to stop him.

“You swore you’d leave if I said no after hearing you out. I heard you out. I said no. So leave,” he said. 

Cabur leaned against his leg, glaring. “You go!,” he said loudly, pointing at Isard. Brave enough to face down a “bad man,” but not quite brave enough to do so without the protection of his father close at hand. Din placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and gave him a little squeeze.

“Well done, _verd’ika_ ,” he said quietly. 

Isard shrugged. “All right, I tried,” he said. “But when you find out someone outside of Mandalore got a hold of all that beskar, don’t come crying to me.”

“If anyone but a Mandalorian takes possession of that beskar,” Din said, “the Mand’alor will make short work of them. She has the Darksaber, after all, thanks to me.”

He placed Ad’ika back on the ground while they gathered up the toys, pointedly turning his back on Isard. When he had the bag back on his shoulder and both boys in his arms again, he turned to see Isard shuffling down the street, shoulders hunched in defeat. Din shook his head. “Never get into debt with a Hutt, boys,” he said. “Come on, let’s go home and figure out what to have for dinner.”

Ad’ika patted his face. “ _Jate, buir_.”

“ _Jate_ , Daddy,” Cabur echoed.

“ _Jate, cyare'se_ ,” Din replied, fighting back tears. “ _Jatne manda_.”

_Good, my beloveds. I am at one with my clan and my life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a words:  
> Aru’e = enemy (noun)  
> verd’ika = private (rank) Can be used affectionately, often to a child; *little soldier*  
> Jate = good  
> Buir = mother, father  
> cyare'se = loves ones   
> Jatne manda = good mood - a complex sense of being at one with your clan and life


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariana tells Din and her coworkers the news.

The moment Mariana walked through the door, Din knew something was bothering her. His plan to tell her about his encounter with Isard was forgotten. “You’re home early. What’s wrong?,” he asked as she dropped her bag on the table. 

“Nothing,” she said. “I just wasn’t getting much work done so I decided to come home and see my favorite boys.” She dropped to her knees and hugged the boys, who had come running as soon as they heard her unlocking the door.

“Mommy, bad man came,” Cabur told her. “Daddy said NO. I said you go! Bad man went away.” He acted out the whole scene, shaking his finger as he told her how Din had said “No” and pointing fiercely as he told her how he’d told Isard to go away.

“A bad man?” Mariana asked, looking up at Din.

He shrugged. “We ran into Jado Isard on the way home from the park,” he said briefly. “I had to tell him no again, but this time I think he got the message, thanks to Cabur.” He tousled the boy’s hair. Ad’ika shot him a sideways glance, but remained silent, letting his brother take all the credit. Din made a mental note to slip Ad’ika a little extra dessert before bedtime.

“Well, that must have been exciting,” Mariana said. “Why don’t we get cleaned up for dinner and you can tell me all about it while we eat?” 

She seemed distracted as she helped him wash the boys’ hands and faces, and picked half-heartedly at her dinner. “Something’s up,” he said quietly, while the boys were busy eating. “Tell me.”

“Nothing,” she said. “Just a little tired.”

Din watched her closely. Her eyes looked a bit red, and the skin around them was puffy. She’d been crying.

“You had that med clinic appointment today,” he realized, blurting it out before thinking. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted, a fake smile on her face. “I’m perfectly healthy, _cyar’ika_. I just … I have a little problem at work that’s been bothering me.” She shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it later, after the boys are asleep.”

She wouldn’t lie to him, so he took her at her word. Physically, she was fine, which was a relief, and he knew she’d confide in him when she was ready. Still, he did his best to tire the boys out after dinner so they’d be ready for bed early. If Mariana noticed, she gave no indication, her nose buried in her data pad as she studied for her upcoming exams.

Din bathed the boys himself, which he’d been doing a lot lately anyway, with Mariana working late so often and tucked them in with a bedtime story about a baby Mythosaur that he’d made up in desperation one night, and that had become one of Cabur’s favorites. When both boys finally drifted off to sleep, Din kissed them goodnight and went to join Mariana on the couch.

“Okay, they’re asleep,” he said. “So tell me what’s bothering you.”

Mariana put her data pad aside. “I … I just have a decision to make,” she began hesitantly. “One I don’t want to have to make but one that’s unavoidable.”

Din took her hand. “Tell me,” he urged.

She sighed. “You know I’ve been asked to coordinate the bibliography project for the Galactic History Consortium.” He nodded. “And I have classes. And I’m working for Professor Ti’lik.” She paused and he knew she was fighting back tears. “I’m going to have to give up something,” she said quietly. “Either the bibliography project or classes next term. I … I can’t do both.”

“Why not?” Din asked. “I thought Ti’lik was giving you some time off from her research project so you can concentrate on the Consortium project.”

“She is, but … there’s another project that I didn’t know about,” she said with a strange smile.

Din shook his head. “I’m confused.”

“When I was at the med clinic, I asked about replacing my contraceptive implant when it expires,” she said. “But turns out I was a little confused about the dates and it already expired … so I asked if we could replace it now and the doctor said she couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Din asked, although he was starting to suspect the answer.

“Because there’s no point in having an implant when you’re already pregnant,” Mariana said, squeezing his hand.

“A baby?” Din asked. “We’re having another baby?” He knew Mariana had mixed feelings about being pregnant right now but he felt a grin creeping over his face. 

“Yes,” she said. He kissed her, then sat back. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“You’re happy, aren’t you?,” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” she said quickly. “I just … the timing isn’t good … I was so excited about the Consortium project and I only have a few classes left to finish for my degree.” She pressed her forehead against his. “I don’t know what to do, Din.”

“What do you want to do?,” he asked.

“I want to do it all,” she said, exasperated. “I want to finish my degree, and work on the project for the Consortium, and the project for Professor Ti’lik, and be a good mother, and … I just can’t. I can’t do it all.” She started sobbing quietly and Din wrapped his arms around her.

“Oh, _cyar’ika_ ,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do it all. I’m here. We’ll figure this out.” He rubbed her back as she cried onto his shoulder. 

“I can’t give up my job,” she said into his shirt. “We’d lose the subsidized housing, and the health care, and my free tuition. But if I keep working, I can’t take classes next term. Maybe not even the term after that.”

“You can’t quit school,” Din said. 

“But the job is more important right now,” she said. “We’ve got the boys to think of.”

“Then keep working for Ti’lik and give up the Consortium project,” he suggested. “I know it’s a big deal, and a great move career-wise, but getting your degree is the most important thing, after the family.”

She sighed against him. “I know,” she said. “I just … I was supposed to meet with Professor Dane next week to give him an outline of my proposal for the project. Now I’ll have to tell him I can’t do it. I feel like I’m letting him down.”

“You aren’t letting anyone down, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din said. “You’re putting your family first. And the project isn’t even really off the ground yet, so it shouldn’t be too hard for him to find someone else to coordinate it.”

He kept on talking, comforting her as best he could, all while the thought, _Another baby, another baby, we’re having another baby_ bounced around inside his head. Finally, she pulled away from his shoulder enough to look him in the eye.

“Thank you,” she said. “I know you want to celebrate, and believe me, my love, I am truly happy about this.” She ran her finger down his nose, then let the tip linger on his lips. “I just wasn’t prepared for it.”

He smiled against her finger, then kissed it gently. “It’s a nice surprise,” he said.

“And at least this time when I found out, you were here, not off on some quest to preserve the honor of Mandalore,” she said, snuggling close.

“Um, about that …,” Din said.

She sat up, looking him in the eye. “What?”

“Before I told Isard to get lost again, he told me why he wanted my help,” he said carefully. “He claims to have the location of the wreck of an Old Republic ship that is rumored to have a cargo that included a large stash of beskar. He needs to pay off a debt to a Hutt, and he offered me half of whatever’s left after he pays that off … and all the beskar.” He looked down, ashamed to keep her gaze. “I … I was tempted. For about thirty seconds, until Ad’ika brought me to my senses.”

“We have enough beskar,” Mariana chided him softly, taking his hand and caressing his ring.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I sent a comm to the Mand’alor before you got home. I told her what Isard told me, and suggested she send someone to ‘persuade’ him to divulge the coordinates to her. If that cache of beskar really does exist, no one deserves it more than the people of Mandalore.”

“And you’re willing to let the glory of repatriating it go to someone else?,” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “A Mandalorian should retrieve it. And I’m not a Mandalorian anymore.”

She kissed him slowly. “No, you aren’t,” she said as she pulled back. “Are you okay with that?”

He slipped one arm behind her to pull her close, while the other pressed against her belly, searching for the child he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel yet, but that he already loved so fiercely. “Yes,” he whispered. “I’m your husband. Ad’ika and Cabur’s father. This child’s father. That’s more than enough for me.”

*****************************  
The first thing Mariana did when she arrived at work the next day was contact the department secretary to find out Professor Dane’s schedule. He had two lectures in the morning, with a twenty minute break between them, and she set a reminder on her data pad so she could be at the lecture hall in time to catch him during the break.

Then she told Professor Ti’lik the news. “I am overjoyed for you,” Ti’lik said, wrapping here in an embrace so tight, Mariana was afraid she might have damaged a rib. “Bearing an offspring is a tremendous honor among my species. Of course, our gestation is much longer than yours, and entails a great deal of sacrifice of time and physical strength.” She’d told Mariana a bit about the ordeal of bearing her two offspring years ago, of the time spent sitting still so the fragile egg inside her gestation pocket did not break, of the long months after the egg hatched protecting the youngling as it grew in the pocket, of the arduous process of extracting the offspring from the pocket when it had grown large enough to survive in the outside world. It made human pregnancy seem like a minor inconvenience.

“Thank you,” she told Ti’lik once she could breathe again. “I need to talk to Professor Dane between his morning lectures, if that’s okay.” 

Ti’lik huffed. “You don’t have to ask my permission, you know that.”

Mariana fidgeted with the items on her desk, not getting a bit of work done, until it was time to leave for the lecture hall. Professor Dane was just finishing up his first lecture when she arrived, and she waited in the hallway until the last student was gone.

“Mariana!” Dane said when he saw her come in. “I thought our meeting was next week!”

“It is,” she said. “But I needed to talk to you about something that can’t wait until then.”

He waved her further into the room and offered her a seat in the front row of the lecture hall, then sat down next to her. “What is it?” 

She took a deep breath. “I’m … I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your offer to coordinate the Consortium Bibliography project,” she said quietly.

Dane blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said. “I just got a comm yesterday from Sian Tevv saying you’d asked him to join your team. He was very excited.”

“I know,” Mariana said. “But my situation has changed since I contacted him. I’m not going to have as much free time next term as I thought I would.”

“Why not? Professor Ti’lik said you’re ahead of schedule on her project,” Dane frowned.

“I found out yesterday that I’m pregnant,” she said.

“Congratulations,” Dane said. “But I still don’t understand why you have to give up the Consortium project.”

Mariana shook her head. “I can’t work for Ti’lik _and_ take classes _and_ do the bibliography project and still take care of myself,” she admitted. “I have to keep working, or I’ll lose the subsidized housing and my health care access. And I can’t quit school when I’m so close to getting my degree. My husband and I talked it over and it makes the most sense that I give up the Consortium project now while you have time to find someone else to take over.”

Dan sat back and nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like you’ve thought this out thoroughly,” he said after a moment, “but you’re forgetting one important bit of information.”

“What?” Mariana asked. “I’ve gone over the situation a million times.” She sighed in frustration.

Dane leaned forward and patted her hand. “One of the requirements for receiving a degree is completing a capstone project,” he said. “I don’t see why you can’t use the Consortium project for that. That way you’ll still earn credits this term without having to take any classes.”

“But, I thought I had to finish all the required courses before I could start a capstone,” she said.

Dane shrugged. “It’s not the way we normally do things, but we don’t normally hire undergraduates as research assistants, either.” He sat forward. “Ti’lik went out on a limb to hire you, and frankly some of us thought she was being a bit foolish, but you both proved us wrong, Mariana. I want you to join the department as soon as you’re qualified, and if we have to make a few unorthodox accommodations to make that happen, so be it.”

She sat back in her seat. Could it possibly be this easy to resolve her dilemma? “You don’t know what a relief this is,” she said after a long moment. “I’ve been fretting about this ….” She started laughing. “I guess that’s why you’re the professor and I’m still the student, right?”

Dane patted her shoulder. “The student will soon surpass the teacher,” he said, “but I’m glad I still have the advantage.” He stood up. “I need to prepare for my next lecture, but we’ll talk more at our meeting next week. And don’t worry about next term. We’ll work it all out. The most important thing is that you take care of yourself and that baby.” He smiled. “Give my best to your husband and those adorable boys of yours.”

Mariana was surprised. She’d never shown Professor Dane any holos of her sons. He chuckled. “Ti’lik showed me a holo she took on the day of the employee picnic,” he explained. “She is quite enamored of the older one. I think it’s because she has those green patches on her arms.” He winked. Ti’lik was very proud of her green patches, which meant she’d borne offspring, but she got gently teased by her colleagues for sometimes going a bit too far to show them off.

Her heart was much lighter as she walked back to the office. Ti’lik was not there, so she took the opportunity to comm Din and tell him what Professor Dane had said.

“Oh, _cyar’ika_ , that’s wonderful,” he said, before ducking out of camera range to grab at something that one of the boys had pulled off the table where he’d propped his data pad. “Leave that alone,” his muffled voice said. “I’m talking to Mommy.” His head popped back into view. “Sorry about that. Cabur distracted me while Ad’ika stole my sonic spanner.”

“What are you fixing that needs a sonic spanner?,” she asked, stifling a laugh.

“Building a spaceship,” he said matter of factly. He held up a jumble of metal about the size of his forearm. “It was decided that the tauntauns need their own ship.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Well, good luck with that,” she said. “I’ll be home early tonight.”

“We’ll have dinner waiting for you,” Din said before a loud crash echoed behind him. “Kriff, what are you doing now, Ad’ika?” The comm link went dark and Mariana stopped stifling her laugh. She giggled for a good five minutes before she was able to get her mind back on her work.

 _Welcome to the circus, little one_ , she thought, addressing the child in her belly for the first time. Now that the initial shock had worn off, and her worries about work and school had been allayed, she was able to enjoy the prospect of bringing another Djarin into the world. _I just hope the galaxy can handle five of us_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariana is bored. But things get exciting for all the wrong reasons ...

Mariana was bored. She had work to do, but it was nothing very interesting. The bibliography project was humming along nicely, with most of the work being currently done by her team of undergraduates. She had a few comms to answer but they weren’t urgent. 

Ad’ika peeked around the door to check on her. Ever since the doctor had put her on bed rest, he had been almost as solicitous as Din, constantly looking in on her and bringing her things. Just today he’d brought her his prized Froggy, which was now quite worn, and an assortment of snacks, as well as a drawing he claimed was a mudhorn, although the bright yellow and green dots had thrown her at first.

“I’m fine, ad,” she told him. He ducked back behind the partly open door and she heard his little feet patter away. Less than fifteen seconds later, Din’s head popped into the room.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’m trying to keep them busy.”

“It’s okay, he’s just concerned,” she said, motioning for him to come in. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you take them to the park?”

Din shook his head. “I don’t want to leave you alone that long,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she insisted with a sigh. Din raised an eyebrow at her. She sighed again. He was not shy about reminding her that her previous insistence that she was “fine” had led to her being stuck in bed for the remainder of her pregnancy.

“I know you get up and try to do stuff when I leave,” Din said, taking her hand. 

“I’m bored!,” she whined, hating herself for doing it but unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. 

“If you’d listened to me — and the doctor, and Ti’lik, and Professor Dane — you wouldn’t be bored right now,” he pointed out. She had pushed herself too hard, working long hours both in the office and at home, consumed by the details of the bibliography project. Dane and Ti’lik had told her to delegate more and worry less, but this was her capstone project and she wanted it to be perfect. 

“I know, I know,” she said, caressing his hand. “But I’m still bored.”

He slid over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and resting his head on top of hers. “How about I bring the boys in and we all watch a holovid together?,” he asked. 

“Not that one about the king of the frogs again,” she complained. Ad’ika was a sucker for anything with a frog in it, and Cabur had a fondness for anything with songs. Their favorite holovid was an old Alderaanian musical about a tadpole who was sucked into a drainpipe and grew up in the backyard pond of a little girl who discovered he was really the rightful King of the Frogs. They embarked on a journey to find the lake where he was born and by now Mariana knew every word of the dialogue by heart.

“No, of course not,” Din said. “I found a new one I think we’ll all like. It’s from Pranta and it just hit the HoloNet a few weeks ago. The boys have only seen it twice and they liked it both times. There’s a spaceship battle and only one song. And … no frogs.” He chuckled into her hair.

He left to gather up the boys and the holo projector. Soon all four of them were snuggled up on the bed, a bowl of snacks in front of each of them and the holovid projecting on the opposite wall. Cabur was tucked under Mariana’s right arm, his head resting on her belly. Din was on her left, his arm around her shoulders and Ad’ika in his lap. 

“Oof,” Mariana said as the baby kicked firmly. Cabur started poking at her belly. “Quiet, baby. Watching a holo,” he scolded. He laid his head back down, rubbing his hand around and around in a circle, while he hummed a made up lullaby. “Baby, baby, sleepy time. Quiet, quiet, baby time,” he sang softly. 

Ad’ika laid his hand on her belly and she felt the oddly warm sensation of him using his unique powers to soothe the baby. He’d done this several times, especially when the baby got agitated and started tumbling around like an acrobat. “ _Vod, udesii_ ,” he said firmly. _Sibling, calm down_. Between the two boys, they quieted the baby down so that it stopped kicking. 

“They’d make good midwives,” Din said softly into her ear. Mariana laughed.

“I’ll take my chances with Dr. Korraay,” she whispered back. After she’d collapsed at work a month ago, and been rushed to the med clinic, she’d formed a strong bond with the doctor. Korraay was sympathetic, but had scolded her for putting her health and that of the baby at risk, then given her a hug and snuck her a box of chocolates while she was still in the hospital. Mariana suspected that Korraay and Din had conspired to over exaggerate the risks in order to force her to slow down, which is why she kept sneaking out of bed when Din took the boys to the shops once a week.

As the holovid went on, Cabur fell asleep, then Ad’ika, and soon Mariana felt herself drifting off. Din ran his fingers gently through her hair, pressing soft kisses against her temple. 

She woke up sometime later, the projector gone dark, Din snoring quietly beside her with Ad’ika curled up on his chest. Cabur was still on her right, but now he was lying with his feet in her face, and his head nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. For a moment, she was tempted to sneak out of bed and go into the other room to get some work done, but it seemed like too much effort. She tugged Cabur closer so he wouldn’t fall off the bed, and then shifted onto her side so she could snuggle up against Din. She fell back to sleep almost immediately.

*********************************  
“Promise me, you’ll stay in bed,” Din said. The boys had been running wild all day and Mariana had begged him to take them to the park to give her some peace and quiet.

“Of course, I will,” she said easily, but he wasn’t convinced.

“Promise,” he said firmly. 

“Fine, I promise,” she said. “You’re being ridiculous, _cyar’ika_.”

“Am I?,” he asked. Last week, when he’d gone to the market with the boys, he’d come home to find her standing on a chair rummaging around on the top shelf in the kitchen cupboard for a box of crackers she’d developed a craving for.

She laid down her data pad. “I promise you I will not get out of this bed except to use the ‘fresher,” she said. “I’ll swear it on the Mudhorn signet if you insist. Get it down. Go on.”

He patted her hand. “No need for that,” he said. He knew if she was willing to swear on their clan signet, she was telling the truth. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I’ll make sure they’re tired out before I bring them home.”

He made sure she had a carafe of chilled water and an assortment of snacks on the bedside table before he left. “I’ll have my comm with me. Call if you need _anything_ ,” he told her. 

“Go. Have fun,” she said, shooing him away. “I’ll be fine.”

The boys were thrilled to be heading to the park. It had been nearly two months since they’d gone anywhere but on the weekly market run. With the baby due in just a few more weeks, it was probably the last chance they’d have for a while. 

Cabur ran straight for the slide when they reached the playground. He was just tall enough to be able to climb the ladder by himself. Ad’ika was too short, but because the slide itself wasn’t very tall, Din was able to place him at the top easily enough. Both boys loved to swoop down the slide; they’d do it for hours if he let them, but he always distracted them with their buckets and spades after a few dozen trips.

When they were happily engrossed in digging and building a city for their tauntauns in the sandbox, Din took the opportunity to sit back on the bench and stare up at the trees that swayed lazily in the gentle afternoon breeze. He didn’t get much downtime anymore, but he took it when he could find it. He did not begrudge a moment spent watching his sons or taking care of his family, but sometimes it was nice to just pause and take a deep breath.

After the boys had grown tired of sand cities, they crossed the park to the grassy hill and spent a good half hour rolling down to the bottom and climbing back up to the top. It was a good workout for little legs and guaranteed tired boys. Indeed, by the time Din indicated it was time to go home, both of them were clamoring to be carried.

“Too far, Daddy,” Cabur insisted.

Adi’ka nodded. “Too far. _Haryc_.” _Tired_.

Din pretended to complain about how heavy they were. “I wish you’d both stop growing,” he grumbled as he hoisted them into his arms. “I can barely carry you anymore.” He acted as though his knees were buckling from their weight and both boys giggled.

“Silly Daddy,” Cabur said.

“Silly _buir_ ,” Adi’ka agreed.

He took his time walking home, letting the boys relax against him. Cabur was nearly dozing when they reached the apartment. “How about a nap before dinner?,” he whispered. 

The moment they stepped into the apartment, Ad’ika was wide awake, clawing at Din’s shoulder. “Mommy!,” he cried. “ _Aaray_!” _Pain_.

Din dropped both boys unceremoniously onto the couch and rushed into the bedroom. Mariana was not there. Then he heard a noise coming from the ‘fresher and slammed his hand onto the door controls, overriding the internal lock. She was on the floor, leaning her head against the wall. There was blood on the floor.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,” he cried. “What happened?”

“I got up to use the ‘fresher,” she said, “and I started bleeding. Not a lot, but enough. I … I was going to get the data pad so I could comm you but it started hurting.” She paused to brace herself against another wave of pain. “I think I’m in labor, but I’m not sure. There might be something wrong.”

Din scooped her up and half carried, half dragged her to the couch. The boys were huddled together at the far end. Cabur had one arm around his brother and the other hand was in his mouth. Ad’ika was hanging onto Cabur’s shirt with one hand and hesitantly holding the other in front of him, ready to reach out for his mother if she needed him.

“It’s okay, boys,” Din said. “Watch Mommy for a second while I comm for help.” He crossed to the communication panel next to the front door. There was an emergency comm built into every apartment and in just a few seconds he had contacted the medical team.

“The med team is on the way,” he told Mariana, smoothing her hair back from her face. “I’ll call Dr. Korraay and tell here we’re on the way to the hospital.” He rushed into the bedroom to grab her data pad. 

“It’s not that bad,” Mariana insisted. “We can take a skimmer ….” Her words trailed off as she grimaced in pain. “Or maybe the med team is a good idea.” She managed to laugh weakly.

The medics arrived and bustled Mariana onto a floating gurney. Din and the boys followed behind, piling into the back of the ambulance speeder. They zoomed through the streets, arriving at the hospital much sooner than Din thought possible.

Dr. Korraay met them in the lobby of the emergency wing. “Take the boys to the daycare facility on the third floor,” she ordered Din. “They don’t need to be here, and you don’t need the distraction of keeping an eye on them.” 

As the med team floated Mariana off in one direction and Din carried the boys in the other, Cabur cried out. “Mommy! I want Mommy!” Ad’ika began to sob quietly. Din tried to soothe them both as he stumbled toward the lift. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. It’s just time for the baby to come, that’s all.” He jabbed the lift button with his elbow and pressed a kiss on Ad’ika’s fuzzy head. “Remember when Cabur was born? It’s just like that.”

Ad’ika looked him solemnly in the eyes and shook his head. “No, _buir_ ,” he said softly. “Not like that. _Burk'yc_.” _Dangerous_.

Din closed his eyes, only opening them when he heard the soft ping of the lift doors opening. He opened his eyes, blinking away the tears, and carried his sons to the daycare, it’s brightly colored doors mocking him as his heart sank. _Please, whatever gods there may be, protect my riduur. She is my heart, my life, my soul_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a words:   
> Vod = brother, sister  
> Udesii = Calm down! Take it easy!  
> Haryc = tired  
> Aaray = pain  
> Burk’yc = dangerous   
> Riduur = partner, spouse, husband, wife


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clan Mudhorn welcomes its newest member.

Mariana was scared, but she trusted Dr. Korraay. “Will the baby be okay?,” she asked. Korraay paused in her perusal of the readouts on her handheld scanner. 

“I believe so,” she said. Mariana was glad she didn’t gloss over the risks; it was one of the things she liked most about the doctor. “I’m more worried about you right now, to be honest.”

Korraay frowned as she punched some buttons on the scanner. “You’ve lost blood and you’re losing more,” she said. “There’s a risk of massive hemorrhage during the birth, so I’m going to get you in a surgical suite just in case. I’ll deliver the baby, as we discussed, but there will be med droids standing by.” She smiled. “I know your husband isn’t a fan of droids, but I’ll hit him over the head if he squawks too much.”

“Where _is_ Din?” Mariana asked, before another wave of pain washed over her.

“I sent him to the daycare to drop off your sons,” Korraay said. “He’ll be with us soon.”

The surgical suite was cold and austere, which made sense given its purpose, but Mariana wished she could have been giving birth at home, like she’d done with Cabur. This was not a welcoming room to bring a child into.

“Doctor,” she asked when Korraay paused in her preparations. “Is this because … because I pushed myself too hard?”

Korraay smoothed Mariana’s hair back from her face. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I think there are a lot of factors at play here. Just because your first pregnancy was easy doesn’t mean this one was supposed to be as well. You’re a bit older, gravity is a little stronger here, there have been some irregularities with the placenta … this was never going to be as easy as the last one.”

She patted Mariana’s shoulder and turned back to her assistants. Mariana tried to relax but the operating table was not a bed and it was not comfortable in the least. There was a commotion behind her and she tried to turn her head to see what was going on, but it was awkward.

“Gown up, sir, gown up,” insisted a droid. 

“Mr. Djarin, please step back out and put on a gown before you enter the surgical suite,” Dr. Korraay said firmly. Mariana smiled. Din would never listen to a droid, but he wouldn’t cross Korraay, because he knew full well she’d kick him out of the room completely if she had to.

A few minutes later, Din was at her side, swathed in a long blue gown and cap, his face hidden behind a green mask. “I’m here, _cyar’ika_ ,” he said, taking her hand.

She looked at him and had to laugh. “Not quite as attractive as the beskar helmet, my love,” she said.

Din shrugged. “You don’t look so glamorous yourself,” he said. Mariana glanced down. She was in a hideously yellow gown, open in the front. 

“Ugh, I hate yellow,” she said. Din chuckled. 

“You won’t be in it for long,” Korraay said, appearing on the other side of the table. “Let’s have a baby.”

A med droid hooked up an IV line and began running a drip. “What’s that?” Mariana asked, her voice slurring slightly for some reason.

“Pain killers,” Korraay said. “Nothing harsh, just enough to keep you comfortable.”

Another line was attached to her other arm. “Wha’ abou’ tha’ one?”

“Blood transfusion,” Korraay said simply. “You’ve lost a bit and we don’t want you getting too weak.” Her eyes flicked toward Din, but Mariana was finding it harder to concentrate on the conversation.

The head of the table was tilted so that Mariana was half sitting up. “Here we go, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din murmured in her ear. “You can do this. You are a warrior. Fight for me, _ner verd_.” _My soldier_. Mariana smiled weakly. 

“I’m not a warrior,” she muttered. “I’m a mother.” She gritted her teeth as another wave of pain swept through her, but this time, she was ready. She knew this pain, she knew the battle ahead, and she knew the reward that lay at the end of it. A new life, another child in Din’s arms.

The painkillers kept her in a semi-haze. She was fully aware during each contraction, but drifted a bit in between. Din brought her back each time Dr. Korraay needed her attention, but otherwise he let her head loll against his shoulder. Finally, the pains were coming so quickly that she had to concentrate. “Decrease the pain killers,” she heard Korraay say. “I need her alert.”

Mariana’s head cleared, her eyes focusing sharply for the first time in hours. “Almost there, Mariana,” Korraay said. Her gloved hands were covered in blood, and there were several stains on her gown. There had not been this much blood when Cabur was born, Mariana was sure.

She pushed, but it hurt, much worse than she remembered. “It hurts,” she whined, ashamed of herself even as she felt the tears running down her cheeks. “It hurts, Din, it hurts.”

“Not much longer,” he said. “I promise. Keep pushing, _cyar’ika_.”

She bore down, feeling a deep guttural scream building inside her. It tore its way out of her throat as she pushed, feeling the baby slip into the world, along with so much blood. Too much blood. It was pouring out of her, she felt it pooling beneath her and saw the look on Korraay’s face as she struggled to clean the baby and cut the umbilical cord.

“RN-15,” Korraay said sharply. “Put her under. SD-19, get to work!”

“What’s going on?,” she heard Din shout as something hot and burning entered her veins through the IV port. Everything went dark but before she disappeared, she thought she heard her baby’s cry.

******************************************  
Din paced the room, cradling his daughter in his arms. Dr. Korraay had literally shoved her into his arms and pushed them out of the surgical suite. A Togruta nurse had taken him in charge after a moment, leading him to this tiny room, where she cleaned up the baby, swaddled her in a blanket and then rushed off, promising to bring news of Mariana as soon as she heard anything. 

There was a comm panel on the wall, and after a few minutes he figured out how to contact the daycare. The young man who answered assured him that both boys were just fine, a bit overwhelmed but doing well. They were drawing pictures and eating crackers at the moment. Din sighed with relief. At least he didn’t have to worry about Cabur and Ad’ika just now. He could concentrate on Mariana and the baby.

He looked down at the tiny creature in his arms. She was staring up at him, her eyes unfocused as she tried to make sense of the new world in front of her. “Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting for you, _ik'aad_ ,” he said softly. He traced his finger down her cheek, smiling as her mouth began to instinctively reach for his fingertip. “I don’t have anything for you, I’m sorry.” He knew that she wanted her mother’s breast, but that wasn’t possible right now. He tried not to think about the reason why.

The baby began to cry, a thin wail that increased in strength as she realized she was not getting her message across. Din jiggled her and patted her back. “Shh, shh, my love,” he said. “It’s all right.” Her cries grew louder and louder. 

The door slid open and the nurse came in with a bottle in her hand. “She’s probably hungry, poor thing,” she said. “See if she’ll take this.” Din fumbled with the bottle. Cabur had never taken one and he wasn’t sure how to hold it or how to get the baby to accept it.

“I’ll show you,” the nurse said, helping him adjust the angle of the bottle and slip the nipple between the baby’s lips. After a few awkward moments, she latched on and began to suck. Din felt his shoulders relax. At least one obstacle was cleared.

“Any word?,” he asked quietly as he and the nurse watched the baby feed. 

“Not yet,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Which is good news. If she’d bled out it would be over by now. This means they’re still working on her, patching things up. SD-19 is our best surgical droid. Over two thousand operations and he’s only lost three patients.” She inclined her head. “I’m sorry if I seem flippant, Mr. Djarin. I’ll leave you and your daughter alone, but if you need anything, press the call button on the comm panel.”

Din slumped into a chair, the baby cradled in one arm as he held the bottle with the other hand. She seemed quite content now that her demand had been met, and he recognized the sleepy look of a baby with a full stomach. He let her take a few more ounces from the bottle before setting it aside and bringing her up to his shoulder. He patted her back to encourage a burp. The last thing either of them needed right now was a bout of colic.

It took a few minutes but eventually she produced a sizable belch and snuggled her head against his neck. Din shifted her back onto his chest and leaned back in the chair. She rooted against the blanket for a moment before dropping off to sleep. As he gazed down at her face, he whispered to her. “I can’t wait for you to meet your mother, _ik’aad_. She is the most amazing being I’ve ever met. So intelligent and fierce and loving. I would lay down my life for her in an instant. I’d lay down my life for you as well, and for your brothers. You are my family, my _aliit_. We are a clan of five now. Our signet is the Mudhorn, and when you’re old enough, I’ll tell you the story of how your brother Ad’ika and I earned that signet. And I’ll show you the beskar I used to wear, before I went _dar’manda_. I’ll tell you the history of Mandalore, of the Creed I swore to when I was only a boy. Of the path that led me to Ad’ika, and to your mother. That led to your brother Cabur, and to you.” He bent over her, brushing a feather light kiss against her cheek. “I love you all so much,” he gasped, trying not to break down completely. “I can’t do this without her.”

The door slid open and he jerked upright, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. It was the nurse. “Dr. Korraay wants to speak to you,” she said. “I’ll take the baby.” She held out her arms and Din gently transferred his daughter to her care. His legs felt weak as he entered the hallway. Dr. Korraay was waiting near the swinging doors to the surgical wing a dozen yards away.

“Is she … is she okay?,” he managed to say.

Korraay smiled. “She’s doing very well,” she said, and Din felt an immense weight lift off his chest. “SD-19 has repaired all the damage and the bleeding has stopped. There was an abnormality with the placenta and it didn’t completely detach from the uterine wall. It tore a hole in the muscle during the birth and we had to surgically remove the afterbirth, and repair the tear. That’s why she bled so much; the tear in the uterus was quite large and there are so many blood vessels attached to the placenta.” She paused to tuck a stray braid back into her intricate hairstyle. Several had fallen loose during the surgery. “There’s going to be some significant scarring, which means another pregnancy would be extremely dangerous for her. Before SD-19 closes up, I wanted to speak to you about performing a tubal ligation, which basically means severing the tubes that lead from the ovaries to the uterus, so that no eggs can reach the uterus. It would not affect her health in any way, just make it physically impossible for an egg to be fertilized and develop into a baby.” She laid a hand on Din’s arm. “We can’t perform the procedure without permission, and since she’s still unconscious, it’s up to you. If you’re not comfortable making the decision without her, we can go ahead and close and then operate again if you choose to go through with it.”

Din shook his head. “No, no, do it now, while she’s already under. It’s for her safety, and we weren’t planning to have more than three children anyway. I take full responsibility for the decision.” He looked Korraay in the eyes. “Just tell me she’ll be fine.”

“As an ethical doctor, it would be remiss of me to claim that before she’s recovered from anesthesia, but it’s my professional opinion that she should be okay,” Korraay said with a small smile. “I’ll inform SD-19 of your decision. We should be finished in another twenty to thirty minutes, then she’ll go to recovery. She should be waking up within an hour or so. I’ll ask the nurse to send word to the daycare, have your sons brought up here so they can meet their sister, and then we can take you all into the recovery room to see Mariana.”

Din simply nodded. His throat was not cooperating anymore and it was all he could do to swallow. Korraay patted his arm and gently turned him back toward the room where the nurse and the baby waited. “Go on, I’ll be back for you as soon as possible.”

He walked numbly back into the room. The nurse handed him the baby and darted out the door. “She’s going to be okay,” he told his daughter, who was still sound asleep. “She’s going to be okay.” He started sobbing and let himself break down for a few minutes while he was safely alone. By the time the door slid open again to reveal Cabur and Ad’ika tugging on the hand of a bemused young caregiver, he had recovered his equanimity.

“Daddy!” Cabur cried. “Where Mommy? I want Mommy!” He skidded to a stop when he saw the baby in Din’s arms. “That’s baby?”

“Yes, _ad_ , this is the baby,” Din said, leaning forward. “She’s asleep, so be quiet.”

Cabur tiptoed closer, with Ad’ika close behind. “Sister,” Ad’ika said softly.

“Yes, this is your sister,” Din replied. Two little hands, one green, one pale brown, reached out to stroke her head and marvel at her tiny pink hands.

“What her name?” Cabur whispered.

“She doesn’t have one yet,” Din admitted. “We’ll have to wait and ask Mommy before we decide.”

“Where Mommy?” Cabur wanted to know. 

“She’s asleep right now,” Din said. “She’s very, very tired after having the baby.” Ad’ika looked at him carefully; the child knew Din wasn’t telling the entire truth but he seemed to realize that his brother would not understand. “We’ll see her in a little bit, after she wakes up.”

Cabur narrowed his eyes after glancing at his brother, but he accepted Din at his word. “Her name,” he said again, gently stroking the baby’s hair.

“What do you think?” Din asked.

“‘Tato,” Cabur said decisively.

“Potato?” Din repeated. Cabur nodded.

Ad’ika flattened his ears. “Mirdala,” he said firmly.

“Mirdala,” Din repeated. _Intelligent_. He chuckled to himself. What would Mariana say when confronted with the choice of Potato or Mirdala as a name for her new daughter? 

“We’ll let Mommy decide, okay?” The boys nodded. They watched the baby sleep for a few more minutes, then got bored. Fortunately, the caretaker had brought a few toys with him, and soon had the boys playing quietly in the corner. Din sat back, letting the baby’s weight against his chest relax him. Before he realized it, he was drifting off to sleep.

*************************************************  
Mariana woke up slowly, swimming up through layers of darkness and blurry sounds. For a moment she panicked, not knowing where she was, and then suddenly it was all clear. She was in the hospital, the stark white ceiling overheard nearly blinding her. Monitors beeped and hummed, and everything below her waist was one enormous pain.

She groaned a little as she tried to move her legs and felt the pain intensify. “How are you feeling?” Dr. Korraay said, her face looming over Mariana.

“Like I got trampled by a bantha,” she croaked. Her throat was dry. Dr. Korraay held out a cup with a straw and she took a sip of icy water. It felt wonderful. Then as her brain caught up with the rest of her body, she tried to bolt upright. “The baby! Where’s the baby?”

Dr. Korraay gently pushed her back down onto the bed. “She’s with your husband,” she said soothingly. “She’s absolutely fine and they’ll be in to see you soon. I want you to shake off the effects of the anesthesia a bit more first.”

Mariana relaxed. She was alive, even though she hurt like hell, and she had a daughter, who was safe with Din. “What about the boys?,” she blurted out, suddenly tense again. 

“They’re with him, too, or else back in the daycare,” Korraay said. “They’ll be in to see you, as well. I promise. Just be patient.”

“What … what happened?” Mariana asked. “There was a lot of blood and then … everything went dark.”

Korraay sat down on the edge of the bed and took Mariana’s hand. “You were hemorrhaging pretty badly,” she said gently. “We put you under so that the surgical droid could operate. There was a part of the placenta that didn’t want to detach from the uterine wall, and when it did, it tore a hole. SD-19 repaired everything, but you lost a lot of blood and I’m afraid there’s going to be significant scarring to your uterus.” 

“No more babies, then,” Mariana said simply. 

Dr. Korraay smiled. “Well, not now,” she said carefully. “Because the scarring would make any future pregnancy extremely dangerous for you and for the baby, your husband gave permission for us to perform a tubal ligation while you were already on the operating table. It will prevent you from conceiving, although otherwise it won’t affect your health in any way.”

Mariana took a moment to absorb that information. She and Din had not planned to have any more children after this one; three was certainly more than enough to handle. She even pondered the possibility of having the procedure done in the future in lieu of constantly replacing contraceptive implants. But to have the decision forced like this took some getting used to.

“Don’t blame him,” Korraay said, misinterpreting her silence. “I do believe he made the best decision.”

“I agree,” Mariana said quickly. “I would have made the same one. I just … it’s a lot to take in.” 

Korraay nodded. “I’m going to check your vitals real quick before I let your family in,” she said, picking up a data pad. “You lost a lot of blood, so we’re giving you a transfusion, but you’ll still be quite weak for a few days. You’re also going to be in a lot of pain from the birth and the surgeries, so if it gets too bad, you can turn up the painkiller drip by calling for a nurse. You’ll be here for several days, I’m afraid.” She sighed. “I’m trying to get the university medical panel to approve the use of bacta gel, but it’s expensive and they’re a bit stingy right now. If they okay it, you’ll be home in two days, maybe three. If not, probably five or six.”

The doctor put down her pad and laid her hand on Mariana’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get your family,” she said. 

A few minutes later, the door slid open and she heard the welcome sounds of Ad’ika’s clawed feet tapping on the tiled floor and Cabur’s voice crying out, “Mommy!” 

“Hey, kiddos,” she said, but her eyes were on Din and the small bundle he carried.

“Mommy, the baby! She sleeping,” Cabur said, making a shushing gesture with his hand. Ad’ika climbed up onto the bed, probably using a bit of his Force sensitivity to help him, since she barely felt him land.

“Mommy,” he said, laying his hand on her belly. 

“It’s okay, _ad_ ,” she told him. “You don’t have to. The doctors will fix me up.”

He tilted his head skeptically but moved his hand off her belly. Just knowing he was willing to try to heal her made Mariana feel immensely better.

Cabur climbed up beside his brother, nowhere near as gracefully or as quietly. “Mommy, her name,” he said urgently.

Din chuckled. “I told them we had to wait for you before we could give her a name,” he said. “Cabur is concerned that she doesn’t have one yet.”

“Tell her,” Cabur urged. 

Din sighed. “The boys came up with a couple of ideas,” he said.

“What are they?” Mariana asked, trying her best not to make grabby hands at the baby. She wanted to hold her so badly it was like an ache in her chest. Din must have seen the need in her eyes, because he gently placed the sleeping baby in her arms. Mariana drank in her tiny face, her exquisite fingers, her silky fine hair. She was the most beautiful baby girl the galaxy had ever seen.

Din cleared his throat. “So our choices are … Potato and Mirdala,” he said.

Mariana was pulled out of her reverie. “Potato?”

Cabur grinned. “Tato!”

Ad’ika shook his head slightly. “Mirdala,” he said firmly.

“Hmm …,” she said, pretending to mull it over. “Well, Cabur, I think Potato is a lovely name but since you and your brother both have Mando’a names, I think we should keep the tradition going. Let’s call her Mirdala.”

Cabur pouted a little but Ad’ika handed him a biscuit and everything was forgotten.

Mariana was getting tired, but she didn’t want them to leave. Cabur and Ad’ika had settled at the foot of the bed, playing a little hand clapping game they’d made up a few weeks ago. Mirdala slept contentedly in her arms and Din stood next to the bed with a stupid grin on his face.

“I’m taking her home with us,” he said after a while. “They said she could stay here in the nursery but you won’t be able to nurse her until the painkillers are out of your system, so I told them I can bottle feed her just as easily as a nurse can, and I’d rather she’s at home than in a sterile hospital room.”

“Of course,” Mariana said, stroking her finger along the curves of Mirdala’s face. The baby squirmed a little, but soon relaxed into the caresses.

“I’ll bring her every day,” Din said. “The boys, too. So you don’t get too lonely.”

She smiled wanly. “I’ll miss you all,” she said. “But it’s only for a few days and then I’ll be home with you.” 

A knock at the door announced the presence of a nurse. “I’m afraid Mrs. Djarin needs her rest,” he said. “You’re welcome to come back tomorrow when she’s a bit stronger.”

Din nodded and scooped Mirdala out of Mariana’s arms. “Come on, boys, Mommy needs to rest some more. Let’s go home and show your sister all your toys.”

He leaned down and kissed Mariana on the forehead. “Rest, _cyar’ika_ ,” he said. “Heal and get stronger. I’m going to need your help with these three.” He winked and then he was gone, taking the children with him. Mariana tried to blink away the tears in her eyes as the nurse checked all the monitors and adjusted the lights.

“Get some rest, Mrs. Djarin,” he said before he left. And then Mariana was alone in the starkly bare room, and she let her tears fall.

*************************************  
“Really, you didn’t have to,” Mariana said when she walked in the door to find paper streamers taped to the walls and a table laden with food and colorfully wrapped gifts. Cabur and Ad’ika were bouncing around, trying to show her everything at once. Professor Ti’lik was there, as well as Professor Dane and his wife, and several of the undergraduates working on the bibliography project.

“Nonsense,” Ti’lik said. “We are happy that you and the child are well and we wished to express our joy.”

“Besides,” Dane said, “any excuse for a party, am I right?”

His wife smacked his arm. “ _And_ we want you to know that you are a valued member of the university family … that’s what my husband was supposed to say.”

After nearly a week in the hospital, Mariana had finally been released. All she really wanted at the moment was a snuggle with Mirdala. She was besotted with the baby, probably because she only got to see her for a few minutes every day. She was actually jealous of Din, who fed and bathed and changed and burped their daughter every day. Still, it was very nice of her co-workers (dare she say friends?) to throw her a welcome home party. 

The gifts were mostly small tokens, things that would be useful to a family with a new baby: soft cloths and blankets, a woven sling, some new toys for the boys so they wouldn’t feel left out. Mariana oohed and ahhed over everything, nibbled at all the food and tried not to feel too anxious as Mirdala was passed around the room so that everyone could admire her.

Finally, the guests were all gone, Cabur and Ad’ika were passed out on the couch, their bellies full of too many sugary treats, and Din was cleaning up the wrapping paper and putting away the leftovers. Mariana sank down in the armchair with Mirdala in her arms. She’d started getting fussy toward the end of the party and Mariana knew she wanted to eat. She’d finally been able to nurse her a few days ago, as the doctor weaned her off the painkillers, and now she tucked the baby against her breast, feeling her root around searching for the sustenance she knew was there. As Mirdala latched on, Mariana sighed contentedly. Now she was truly home.

When Mirdala was done feeding, and had been burped, Din came over to them, kneeling down beside the chair. He had a small wooden box in his hand.

“One last gift,” he said. “It’s from the Mand’alor. I didn’t think it was appropriate to open it in front of the others.”

“The Mand’alor?” Mariana had never met the woman, but Din’s stories of her were of a strong, fierce, yet wise leader. “Why would she send us anything?”

Din smiled. “Well, remember that I told her about Isard and his claim to know the whereabouts of a ship filled with treasure, including beskar?”

“It was true?” Mariana asked.

“Apparently,” Din said. “This came two days ago; she must have someone keeping an eye on us, because I never sent any word to her after the message about Isard. The messenger said it was a gesture of thanks from the Mand’alor for restoring another part of the Mandalorian legacy.”

He opened the box and they both gasped. Inside, on a bed of soft black velvet, were five beskar pendants, exquisitely detailed copies of the Mudhorn signet that had adorned Din’s armor. A small handwritten card lay in the lid. It was in Mandalorian script, which Mariana could not decipher. Din lifted it out and read it.

“A small portion of finest beskar for the clan that restored the trove of the Jotau to the people of Mandalore. Clan Mudhorn will forever have a place in the lore of our people. _Vor entye_.” _Thank you_.

Mariana lifted one of the pendants from the velvet. It was heavy and cold, but warmed quickly in her hand. “They’re beautiful,” she said softly.

“Just like our family,” Din said, cupping her hand in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a words:  
> Cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart  
> Ner = my, mind  
> Verd = soldier, warrior  
> Ik’aad = baby, child under 3  
> Aliit = clan name, identity, family  
> Dar’manda = a state of not being Mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditionall-minded Mando'ade  
> Ad = daughter, son  
> Mirdala = clever, intelligent, intellectual   
> Vor entye = Thank you (lit. *I accept a debt*)

**Author's Note:**

> Mando’a words:
> 
> Cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart   
> Ad = son, daughter   
> Buir = mother, father  
> Gehat'ik = story  
> Gedet'ye = please


End file.
